Becoming Eri
by twintailed
Summary: At first, being Eri was a blessing. But eventually Shiki realises how precious her price in the Game was. Shiki centric, hints to Neku/Shiki.


_**Becoming Eri  
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_**a/n: **__This is so all over the place, and it partially annoys the heck out of me for that. But, I've tried to extend it out, but what it is is what it is - musings, and more of a descriptive fic. I've come to a point where I'm on mutual terms with it, so I'm not going to push my luck with it anymore, haha. :') Some people have liked it, so I hope others like it as well._

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The Game. A unique system of the Shibuya district in Tokyo.

The Game gives souls killed in accidents a second chance at life. Another chance, another day, another life to live when it all should have ended right there. Reapers of the Underground are the ultimate test. They will take you to your limit, to see if you are willing to go that far, to go to the edge.

Complete the missions with your partner, and win, and that second shot will be all yours.

Of course, all such things come with a price; they're not offering out second chances for free. An entry fee, if you will – of what you hold in high regard. What you hold most dear.

Name: Misaki, Shiki. Age: Fifteen years old. Residence: Shibuya, Tokyo.

Price: Her appearance.

. . . .

At first, Shiki couldn't deny she was rather shocked. Not from the fact she was suddenly in the supposed Underground - dead, playing the Game, and all that - even though those were pretty high contenders; to be fair, they would have been the biggest problem if not for something else. No, the thing that completely threw her was something else entirely.

That she was Eri.

After the initial shock, she flew into confusion. It puzzled her. She wanted to be Eri, so why would her appearance by the price? It was like a wish come true, that a fairy godmother had finally righted the wrongs of one of her major, everyday niggles (even if, well, she was dead, supposedly, so things were that great). But, Shiki didn't ponder over it for very long.

Shiki took being Eri and ran with it.

Confidence she'd never have; looks she'd never gain; her own clothes that she could never wear.

To be anyone else but plain, boring old Shiki was a blessing, not a curse. As Eri, there was so much she could do and be. And the clothes, her clothes, now what she could wear. These clothes were things she had always wanted to wear – but plain, boring old Shiki couldn't pull them off. They were meant for someone better. Someone with the right shape. The right style. The right personal outlook on life. Someone like Eri.

It wasn't just the clothes she got to wear. It was like the sun suddenly shone around her and her confidence and vitality grew with it. She was the leader; she wasn't the shabby girl hiding in the corner; not anymore.

Being Eri, at first, there was nothing bad about it. If anyone had asked her, it was the best thing that had happened to her. Ever. No matter how cliché that sounded.

When she met Neku, it was still a beautiful blessing to be Eri. But as time went by with him, her forced, unwilling partner, Shiki's views began to change.

Every time he called her name it reminded her most.

She was a lie. There was no Shiki anymore. Just Eri. A soul in someone else's body. That was no way to live. And it occurred to her, gradually, what she was losing; what she didn't have anymore.

There were things Eri couldn't do. She didn't always act how Shiki had portrayed her during that first week – not over confidence or strength or demanding that Neku take his pants off, in the middle of the street, right now. Nothing like that. That wasn't Eri. It wasn't anyone else she had known, or knew, either. That was all Shiki; all her, nobody else.

It had been there all along, in a shy, unoptimistic girl's heart, like she reverted to. Eri couldn't sow like her. That was a big one, too.

And Neku – the boy who hated everything – grew to like her.

Not for what she looked like. But what was inside. Shiki's personality and abilities. Shiki's goals and dreams. Shiki's spark and attitude.

Just Shiki. Not Eri.

That was when she started to realise the curse she unwittingly hadn't seen – or convinced herself, so wrapped up in it, not to see. It wasn't a blessing to be someone else. The blessing was to have one's own appearance and be the person she wanted, inside and out.

That was priceless.

That was worth everything.

She may have wanted to be Eri, but inside, she loved herself just the way she was. That was the killer; the thing that made her stop, that made her want to break, that made her want to cry. She wanted to wake up as Shiki, not Eri. She wanted to advert. She wanted to be herself. Now more than ever.

And with that boy, that cynical boy, they fought together. They fought for their own lives, they fought for their own reasons, but, it was together.

And he fought to retrieve her again, and again, the next week and the next. For Shiki.

And when she saw everyone again, as her true self – in front of the statue, like they'd promised – she knew just how blessed she was.


End file.
